


Too Close For Comfort

by silverfoxstole



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-17
Updated: 2004-09-17
Packaged: 2018-05-24 23:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6170509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfoxstole/pseuds/silverfoxstole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Hornblower's wedding, Bush receives some unwelcome attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Close For Comfort

Portsmouth, 1803

 

It was all over.

The thing was done, there was no getting away from it.

Hornblower was married, for better or worse.

William Bush regarded the remains of the wedding reception and decided that it was high time he returned to the Hotspur. Even if Prowse hadn’t already managed to alienate the dockyard superintendent, they would still be working through the night to make her ready to sail in the morning.

Once or twice earlier he’d tried to leave, but Hornblower wouldn’t hear of it. Bush would have been quite glad to be back on board ship, if only to get away from his captain’s new mother-in-law.

Mrs Mason had seemingly made him the object of her extra special attention. After appropriating his arm on the walk from the church, she had been hovering around him all afternoon, always with a glass in her hand.

Bush made several attempts to escape her, after having done what he considered to be his duty as groomsman and entertained her for half an hour, but each attempt was thwarted. On one occasion, she neatly backed him into a corner, standing so close that he was forced to lean against the Welsh dresser behind to put some space between them. The look of appeal he shot in Hornblower’s direction went unheeded – Maria was monopolising the attention of her new husband.

Now, finally, he could get back to the ship, to where he should have been hours ago. He had seen Orrock on his way back with the men, the majority of whom would have very sore heads come the morning. All the guests had gone, even Admiral Pellew, who had been unusually reluctant to leave once he had a glass of champagne in his hand. The newlyweds had retired an hour since.

The maids were coming in to clear away the remnants of the wedding breakfast. Bush collected his hat and made his way to the door.

“Leaving already, Mr Bush?” a shrill voice asked, startling him.

He looked up in dismay to see Mrs Mason standing in the doorway. His heart thudded into his boots – he’d thought she was sleeping off the gargantuan amount of champagne she’d consumed in a corner somewhere. Surprisingly, she was only a little unsteady on her feet, and she still had a glass, though from the look of its contents she was visiting an old friend – the gin bottle. Bush decided that Hornblower would have to keep a close eye on his mother-in-law, or she would swiftly drink him out of house and home.

“I regret, ma’am, that I must return to the ship,” he said, hoping she would leave it at that.

It was a vain hope. She sniffed. “You men. They’ve only been married a few hours, and already you’re dragging him away.”

“Not until the morning. Good evening to you, ma’am.” He strode past her, heading for the door.

In a flash, she had beaten him to it, moving faster than he would have given her credit for. She stood in the doorway, blocking his path. “So, you’re leaving me, too,” she said. “All alone, no one to bear me company. And I took you for a gentleman.”

“I’m afraid I must go. I have my duty.” Bush was stymied. What should he do now? He couldn’t bodily remove her from his way, pick her up and throw her over his shoulder as he would his younger sisters. He couldn’t very well barge past her, either, much as he would like to. It was plain she had no intention of moving. “If you would allow me to pass - ”

She was smiling at him now. “Why don’t you stay an’ have a little drink with me? We can be very cosy together.”

The strong scent of spirits wafted past Bush’s nose. He winced – it was one thing to smell alcohol on a seaman’s breath, quite another to find it on a woman’s. There were few things that disgusted him more than women who drank. “Really, ma’am, I think you’ve had enough.”

He made to push past her, intent now on getting away, but she caught hold of his arm. “Come and sit with me for a while.”

Bush tried to disentangle himself, but she held on tight. She was looking him up and down – he felt himself blush under the scrutiny. That same gaze had made him feel acutely uncomfortable when he had first met Mrs Mason.

“You’re very shy around women, aren’t you, Mr Bush?” she asked now, running her other hand up his arm. Her glass stood abandoned on the dresser.

Bush looked around for help, but the maids were nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if they had been within call. This was ridiculous! “Hardly, ma’am, I have three sisters,” he said, trying again to remove her grasp on his arm. Dear God, she had a grip like iron!

“Ah, but that’s hardly the same, is it? You need a woman – ’andsome man like you shouldn’t be without a wife.” Mrs Mason smiled, and stroked the side of his face. Bush flinched, which only made her smile even more. The smell of gin on her breath was overpowering.

“Madam, I must ask you to let me go,” he said, trying to use his sternest tone of voice, the one that had the ratings quaking in their boots.

She only laughed at him. “Are you afraid of me?”

“I think you are demeaning yourself,” he snapped. “Go to bed and sleep it off.”

“Only if you come with me, my brave sailor.” She giggled and threw her arms around him.

Bush had been in the Navy half his life – he was no stranger to women, but the sight of one like this, drunk and propositioning him, turned his stomach. She might as well go and parade herself amongst the bawdy houses on the Point. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

She bristled. “I know exactly what I’m sayin’, thank you.” She stroked his face again, twisting her fingers in his hair. “Come and do your duty, Mr lieutenant.”

He twisted, finally managing to free his arm, and wriggled out of her grip. Before she could catch hold of him again, he grasped her forearms, holding her at arm’s length. “You are drunk, madam.”

“How dare you - ” With astonishing strength, she wrenched her arm free. Pulling back her hand, she slapped him across the face. His head snapped to one side with the force of the blow. “No one ’as even spoken to me like that!”

Smarting, and tasting blood in his mouth, Bush grabbed her wrist before she could hit him again. She stared at him, her face even redder than ever, flushed with anger.

“I would never hit a woman, madam, but your behaviour barely merits you the title,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting hers. “What would your daughter think to see you like this?”

She glared, hatred flaring in her eyes. “You know nothing of my daughter. She - ”

“Sir, I - ” a familiar voice said from behind. Bush glanced round to see Matthews on the threshold. The bosun hesitated. “Shall I come back?”

“No, Matthews – Mrs Mason was just retiring,” said Bush, releasing his grip on her arms. “Goodnight, ma’am.”

Mrs Mason gave him a look that could have slain him on the spot, and flounced away.

“Trouble, sir?” Matthews asked.

Bush shook his head. “A little too much champagne.”

The bosun didn’t look convinced. “It’s sad when they get like that, sir.”

“What did you come for, Matthews?” Bush asked, grateful for the man’s entrance but not about to tell him that. He was rather more shaken than he would have been willing to admit. It was absurd for a man used to the gun deck of a 74 to be rattled by an indiscreet woman – he was annoyed to find that his hands were trembling.

Matthews gave him a concerned glance, but said nothing. “Mr Prowse’s compliments, sir, but could you return to the ship. The superintendent’s being difficult.”

Glad of a return to normality, Bush found his hat. “I’ll come at once. Oh, and Matthews?”

“Sir?” The bosun looked puzzled.

“I don’t think we need to let the captain know of this…incident, do you?”

Matthew’s grizzled face settled into a blank expression. “Which incident would that be, sir?”

“Good man. Come on.”

As they walked back towards the Hard, Bush couldn’t help reflecting that Hornblower certainly had married for better or worse. He could only hope, for his friend’s sake, that Maria wouldn’t take after her mother. Bush wasn’t given to speculation, as he had told Admiral Pellew, but had anyone asked him, he would have foreseen stormy waters ahead.

He hoped Hornblower would be able to navigate them.

 

FIN


End file.
